Insight
by Cookie-Lollie
Summary: Insight of Yuuri on Ice! from the POV of Yuuri & other characters headcannons and theories from tumblr one-shot pairings/smut Victor x Yuuri, Seung-gil x Yuuri, older!Yuri x Yuuri, JJ x Yuuri, Emil x Yuuri, Chris x Yuuri, Phichit x Yuuri basically everyone wants a piece of Yuuri and his delicious katsudon
1. A Night to Remember

_Never judge a book by its cover._

When he was younger, his efforts in making friends were always met with rejection—his peers thought of him as too gloomy and dull to associate with—so he settled for the next best thing. Since he was a naturally quiet child, he blended in with the shadows and disappeared, content to simply observe everyone from an outsider's point of view. He wanted to learn from the examples of others so that one day, he could become friends with someone who would appreciate him.

He was spurned to take ballet classes when he heard one of his classmates talk about Minako-sensei, a ballerina who once traveled the world to perform. He figured that he could make friends with anyone else who decided to sign up for ballet classes. Unfortunately, none of the girls were that interested in ballet because it was too vigorous for their tastes. All of the boys thought of it as too girly even though he always thought of the _ballerinos_ as cool since they could carry a _ballerina_ ' _s_ entire body weight on their arm.

Minako-sensei took no offense when he told her of his reason for taking ballet classes. In fact, she took it as a challenge and took it upon herself to whip him in shape. He appreciated her efforts greatly since it made him even more flexible than some of the girls during gym class. As it was, his mother wasn't happy that he was one of the few students in Minako-sensei's ballet class and enlisted him to take ice skating lessons at Ice Castle on the odd days he wasn't taking ballet classes in hopes that he could make friends with the students there.

His mother's plan was a great success and he made friends with Yuko-san and Nishigori-san. They were both a few years older than him but didn't treat him as though he was a brat like their peers would treat him. When they first met, Yuko-san immediately took a shine on him and while Nishigori-san teased him incessantly, he came around once the boy realized that he wasn't once of the students who came and went. The three of them grew closer, and he bonded particularly with Yuko-san over their admiration of Victor Nikiforov.

With his ballet classes and ice skating classes, Yuko-san convinced him to try his hand at figure skating. They mimicked Victor's ice skating and choreographed some programs for them to try their hand at. Minako-sensei was very supportive and intensified their classes in hopes that he would make it big in the figure skating world. He found it overwhelming at times, especially when Yuko-san went on a passionate spiel of how amazing it would be if he became a top figure skater and competed alongside Victor. Minako-sensei and Nishigori's parents understood his anxiety and were gracious enough to let him into their ballet studio and skating rink respectively. Practicing always soothed his nerves and helped him in the long run and they didn't mind since he was one of their most dedicated and loyal students.

He was still atrocious when it came to socializing with his peers. The few that he ever talked to voiced such and given how nosy Minako-sensei could be, she took it upon herself to get him out there. People still thought of him as dark and gloomy and tried to steer clear of him when they could though. Somehow or another, his decision to become an observer of human interactions spurned his newfound interest in human psychology and the like. And so, he found himself devouring books on psychology, enlisting Minako-sensei to help him better understand—under the clever reasoning that he could better convey his emotions in ballet with greater understanding—and she was roped and got it into her head that he could _do better_ and respond accordingly based on the expressions and body language of the audience.

He couldn't afford to get an experienced coach so Minako-sensei, who developed a newfound love for figure skating—after watching Victor Nikiforov skating, that is—took on the position as his coach when he competed in the junior competitions. It was incredibly nerve-wracking but he somehow managed to make it through. He made a surprisingly impressionable senior debut and after a few more years participating in competitions, he graduated from high school and offered a scholarship from a Detroit college.

His college years in Detroit were spent pursing figure skating and double-majoring for a Bachelor's degree in psychology and nutrition. No one was surprised when they learned of his Bachelor's degree in psychology but it was uncharacteristic of him to pursue anything else. He chose to double-major in nutrition as well so as to apply what he learned to himself; partly in hopes that it would improve his performance on ice and partly to help him not gain as much weight as easily as he did.

After much pestering from the combined forces of Minako-sensei and Yuuko, he took up interpretive and ballroom dancing for the sake of future public appearances at banquets, and break-dancing, salsa, and pole dancing to help with his physiology and choreography. And he couldn't deny that _all_ of those classes helped him immensely when he was figure skating. He was certified as a top figure skater by the Japanese Skating Federation after he skated a short program showcasing moves that were loosely inspired by salsa dancing and ballroom dancing. He wasn't ready to show any moves that were inspired by break dancing and he would sooner die than use anything even the slightest bit inspired by pole-dancing—it just wasn't _him_ , and it didn't even fit his image.

* * *

He hated knowing the general train of thought based on their facial expressions and body language. While the judges were greatly experienced with their straight faces and thus giving no hint to what they scored the skaters, Yuuri could read them like a book. It didn't help that he always struggled over dealing with his general anxiety. Just because he knew how to handle it didn't exactly mean that he _could_ follow through using that knowledge. Worst of all, his anxiety attacks were unpredictable like it was expected to be, but always varied drastically one episode after another. In most of his anxiety attacks, he would be hit with a sudden wave of impending doom as he broke out in cold sweat and fatigue seeping into his very bones, his stomach churning horribly, and trembles racking his entire body as he came to the realization that he spent the prime of his life on something he couldn't even succeed at. Other episodes would leave him struggling to breathe even as he subconsciously began to hyperventilate and his brain turned into mush, his fingers shook uncontrollably, his throat closed up, his stomach jumping for the chance to spew out vomit, and his heart painfully pounding within his ribcage; his thoughts jumped from how he wasted his prime on a useless sport that wouldn't help him once he retired from competitive skating to how he should just do everyone a favor and kill himself since he would undoubtedly shame Japan with his atrocious skating.

It was his first time getting into the Grand Prix Final and it filled him with joy that he finally got to skate on the same rink as Victor would. He was standing on the same stage as other top skaters and their very presence drove his demons off. He was standing toe-to-toe with world-class skaters and now, he would be considered world-class as well. It comforted him that he _hadn't_ wasted a good chunk of his life futilely chasing after a dream that would never be. Minako-sensei and Yuko-san ruthlessly pounded it into his head day in and day out when he still lived in Hasetsu, but after five years of living in Detroit, his confidence in himself slowly waned. During his darkest hours, he thought of quitting competitive skating. It was so exhausting having to deal with his anxiety and the anxiety attacks that came with it. While he had dealt with anxiety since before he hit puberty, his anxiety attacks only came after he began to participate in competitions.

Seeing his name on the screen with other major skaters made all the tension within him relax. He earned his spot in the Grand Prix Final along with Victor Nikiforov—the thought that he would finally be able to compete alongside Victor, even though the man didn't even know him, drove off his demons like no other. He felt optimistic about how his performance would go even though he would have to skate first since all the skaters skated from the lowest score to the highest. It didn't bother him that he was the lowest scored skater because it was to be expected; it was his first Grand Prix Final and he took pride in it despite some of his competitors being younger than him. He knew better than anyone that he wasn't talented, and it was only through hard work that he actually made it where he was now. The talented was indisputably Victor Nikiforov while everyone else, Christophe Giacometti, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Cao Bin, and Michele Cirspino were a varying mixture of talent and hard work.

Yet, his demons came back to him with a vengeance and at the worst possible time. His mother decided that the most opportune time to let him know that Vic-chan, the family dog, had passed away, was two days before the Grand Prix Finals would take place. While he appreciated that his mother wanted to let him know as soon as possible since he was the most attached to Vic-chan, he wished that she considered the time and place. The combination of his insufferable habit of stress eating before major competitions and Vic-chan's death lingering on his mind made for a terrible state. As though waiting for him to fall from his high, he suffered through his usual anxiety attack two days before the Grand Prix Final and another two, harsher episodes hit him in the evening and interrupted his much-needed rest before the competition.

He knew that his performance heavily relied on his mental state and he was far from in the best condition in that respect. Coach Celestino took a single look at him during breakfast and from what he could read off him in that moment, his coach didn't believe for a second he would win. It wasn't very comforting or helpful for the matter, that his own coach couldn't even see a chance of him winning bronze. Not even he thought he would do well either and yet, he desperately yearned for the gold medal.

After he over-rotated on his Triple Axel and crashed to the ice during the second half and saw the unimpressed looks that the judges practically radiated, he floundered his way through the remainder and continued to fall with his jumps. As the music came to an end and he ended his free skate, he felt his heart drop at one of the announcer's sharp criticism—he really did have no excuse when he wasn't injured but was in top physical condition. He couldn't help but wish that the floor would cave in and swallow him whole as he silently walked to the kiss and cry.

Celestino tried to smile reassuringly and words of comfort flew from his lips. Yuuri spotted the strained edge to Celestino's smile and the line of disappointment in the slump of his coach's shoulders—he was a genuinely nice man but he was disappointed in Yuuri for complete and utter failure since he would reflect badly on him and his career as Yuuri's coach rather than because he sincerely thought Yuuri could do better.

Yuuri appreciated Celestino though and saw the sincerity in his body language when his coach forced him to attend the banquet of the Osaka Four Continents Figure Skating. It wasn't any different from his previous banquets. As usual, he had a table to himself and would normally savor a glass or two of champagne but he felt like he deserved to drown himself in the alcohol.

* * *

Victor felt his eye nearly twitch in annoyance several times as he continued to smile and wave charmingly at some of the guests of the banquet. He reached for his second glass of champagne and let his eyes wander throughout the banquet hall until they settled on the lonesome figure near the wall. He struggled to attach a name to the face but remembered him as the Japanese who finished dead last in the Grand Prix Finale. He felt a shred of pity for the man and was about to approach him to offer him some companionship and hopefully get a break from the guests.

Chris got to the Japanese man first and gave him a charming yet sultry smile. "I'm here to offer you some company. You shouldn't be sulking away in the corner when the night is still young."

The young man swayed slightly and Victor noticed the sixteen empty glasses of champagne. Respect for the Japanese was born as he could only handle roughly six glasses of champagne, give or take, before blacking out. His fellow competitor should have been born Russian given his solid alcohol tolerance and Victor's lips twitched at the irony; a Russian with a pitiful alcohol tolerance by his nation's standards and a Japanese with a rock-hard alcohol tolerance despite the fact that the majority of his people turned bright red after three drinks. The young man turned to face Chris and Victor smiled at the sight of his slightly pink cheeks and bright eyes— he was drunk. " _Hallo!_ My name is Katsuki Yuuri. You're Chris, right?"

"And you're Yuuri—Yuuri-kun, am I right?" Chris inquired, shamelessly taking advantage of Yuuri's drunken condition to attach a suffix to his given name.

Yuuri seemed to take it in stride and instead looked at Chris with star-struck eyes that seemed to take its receptor by surprise. Such eyes were normally reserved for Victor since Chris was known for his _eros._ "How did you know my name?" he asked in awe. His attention was drawn away from Chris momentarily as his head turned to roam over the banquet hall before returning on him. "Why is there no dancing? This is a banquet, right?"

Victor could practically feel the mischief radiating from Chris. "It is," he agreed and winked. "You should fix that, Yuuri-kun. Everyone seems so bored."

Yuuri looked to be in complete agreement with Chris. He gave him an innocent smile with wide, sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed red from alcohol. Chris looked taken aback by how bright Yuuri appeared and his eyes raked over Yuuri from head to toe—not in an appreciating manner but more considering, seeing his fellow skater in a completely different light. Chris seemed to have found something he liked about Yuuri and his smile went from sultry to genuine.

Despite being completely drunk, Yuuri surprisingly picked up on that. "Oh, you're smiling for real now. That's great. I think your eros comes out better when you smile for real. Gap _moe!_ That difference in behavior and expression and how your body says _eros_ but your expressions say _agape!"_

Victor's attention was completely drawn to Chris and Yuuri's conversation entirely now. What surprisingly insightful words and frightening observation. Victor drained the last of his glass and set it down, intent on joining the two. As he set his glass down, he saw Yuuri drunkenly stagger to the center of the banquet hall. Chris joined Victor and smiled with a wicked edge of mischief and anticipation. His phone was out and on the camera app, ready to take photos. Victor immediately took out his own phone to take pictures of whatever would come out of this.

Yuuri didn't fail to surprise when he discarded his suit jacket and loosened his tie. With a sway that could be seen as drunken or seductive, approached Yuri as though he was a man on a mission. Yuri noticed Yuuri's approach and scowled unattractively, baring his teeth like the tiger he so adored.

"What are you here for, failure? Shouldn't you back home in Japan after your miserable defeat?" he asked scathingly.

It was barely noticeable but Yuuri flinched at Yuri's harsh words and hurt flashed in his chocolate brown eyes. His bright eyes dimmed a bit and Victor frowned at that. A glance at Chris showed that the man was equally displeased, having found an odd friendship with the "victim" in question.

Yuuri seemingly shook off the Yuri's words but there was a slump in his shoulders. He smiled though and boldly aimed a finger at him. "Let's have a dance battle!" There was a steeliness underlying his deceptively cheerful tone and Victor wondered if Yuuri was as drunk as he thought he was.

Yuri obviously thought not and vocalized such thoughts. "Huh? Are you out of your mind? Why should I have a dance battle with you?"

There was a sharp edge to Yuuri's smile that made it look almost predatory. It contrasted greatly from his previously cheerful and happy-go-lucky demeanor. "Oh, how unfortunate. I was really looking forward to having a dance battle. I wanted to know if you're as prodigious off ice as you are on the rink, but I guess not. I'll ask someone better than."

Yuuri turned and his eyes looked with Chris's, seemingly ignoring Victor completely. He was about to walk off when Yuri let out a rather animalistic cry of anger. "You're on! When I win this stupid dance battle, you'll be crying your eyes out again!"

Instead of being affected by Yuri's scathing words, he nodded in agreement and smiled brightly. Victor was of the belief that it was intentional instead of done on a drunken impulse because it set Yuri off even more. "Eh? I don't like crying! It makes my eyes puffy and my throat scratchy!"

Yuri looked like he wanted nothing more but to kick Yuuri in the side but thought better of it. He joined Yuuri on the dance battle and called out to the D.J. "Hey! Put on some music! We're having a dance battle."

The D.J. obliged and after a few moments of waiting, the speakers roared with English rap music. Yuuri immediately broke out in free-style dancing with a merry smile and not one to be outdone in any way or form, followed in his example. While Yuri was quite good at free-style dancing, he looked as though he was prancing around and doing poor imitations of dance moves in comparison to Yuuri. He was drunk but still held on to his balance and made Victor believe he had some experience in ballet or something. Some of his moves were entirely original and others, Victor realized were from salsa dancing and break-dancing.

His eyes focused on Yuuri's flat stomach appreciatively when he used a single hand to lift to entire body in the air while Yuri leaped into the air in the same moment with a scowl. Yuuri barreled forward in a smooth, well-practiced motion and his dress shirt slipped down from his sudden movements, exposing more of his pale skin. He was lean with muscle that came from ballet and other disciplines, Victor noted. The shutter sound could be heard faintly as Chris took pictures of the dance battle.

As the music seemed to be coming to an end, Victor decided it would be an opportune time to step in before Yuri's temper grew any more explosive and got the better of him. "This was rather entertaining, but I think we all know who the winner of the dance battle is," he said with clapping hands while Yuri scowled darkly and clicked his tongue. "Katsuki Yuuri!"

Yuuri smiled brightly and with a spring in his step, he all but bounced towards Victor. "Let's have a dance battle!" A laugh bubbled from his throat without warning and he nodded his head before it fully processed in his mind. Still, he joined Yuuri and walked to the center of the banquet hall and threw out seemingly random dance moves. Yuuri, on the other hand, clapped his hands, as though he was about to do some salsa dancing.

As Yuuri danced with a concentrated expression, Victor teasingly danced along with Yuuri instead of against. Yuuri let out a bubbly laugh and catching on to Victor's idea, followed in his example. As they slid across the banquet hall and danced in synchronization, Yuuri's arm slipped around Victor's waist and Victor suddenly found himself getting dipped. Yuuri had a bright smile and his face was flushed pink and sweaty.

Yuuri raised Victor back to his feet and was accosted by Chris, who had an opened bottle of champagne in his hand. "Yuuri-kun! You must be thirsty after handing Yuri's ass to him and dancing with Victor. Have some more champagne."

The bottle of champagne was practically shoved in Yuuri's hand but he smiled indulgently and poured the champagne into his mouth by waterfall. He staggered much more noticeably and continued to dance although it was done much more drunkenly. Yuuri continued to smile even though his cheeks must be hurting by now and laughed as though he was having the time of his life instead of laughing hysterically like many drunks do.

Yuuri suddenly stopped in his dancing and turned his head to the right. Victor followed Yuuri's line of vision and took a doubletake at the pole impaling the ceiling and floor. Yuuri ran to the pole and Chris wasn't too far behind him. Chris, he knew could pole dance but could Yuuri? How could they even pole dance when they were both wearing suits?

As though Yuuri and Chris could hear his thoughts, Chris stripped and was left in the speedo he was in at the pool and his necktie still tied around his neck. Yuuri was still very much drunk and although he managed to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, he fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt and only managed to undo a few of them before he just gave up. Yuuri was left in his dress shirt with his tie still around his neck and in briefs. Chris got to the pole first and immediately did a Screw Grip Hand Spring, earning appreciative cheers from the crowd that formed around the two. He swung his body around the pole provocatively and grabbed a bottle of champagne from a random person. As he swung his body for another move, the bottle of champagne exploded with a stream of foam when Chris did the Spatchcock.

Chris surrendered the pole to Yuuri once he got his share. With a raunchy smile, Yuuri went for the Superman and some guys winced, recognizing the move. Victor wondered how long Yuuri must have been pole dancing for his inner thighs to be able to handle the grafting of the pole. He swung around the pole a few more times and made sultry expressions that looked like they would belong on Chris's face, and appeared all the lewder from him when he was normally so well-mannered and innocent—he went from _agape_ to _eros_ and both suited him perfectly.

Chris looked entranced by Yuuri's performance and joined him on the pole once more. He climbed the pole until he was over Yuuri and performed the Frog while Yuuri did the Layback, carrying his entire body weight and some of Chris's with his arms. Victor was impressed at that and smiled at the innocent little blush that painted Yuuri's cheeks. They shifted positions again and in doing so, Chris took the opportunity to unbutton the rest of Yuuri's dress shirt but kept the necktie.

Yuuri gripped the pole with his right handle while his right ankle curled around the pole. Chris hanged with his left hand and left thigh in a mimicry of the dip Victor was treated to. With fluid motions, Chris did the Jade Split and Yuuri grabbed the champagne bottle Chris set on a nearby table with his feet. Yuuri gripped onto the pole with his left hand and rested his right foot on the back of Chris's left knee while his right leg with slightly lifted in the air. Yuuri poured the remaining champagne to the floor and laughed loudly.

Chris and Yuuri returned to the floor and gathered their discarded clothes. Chris buttoned part of his dress shirt back on but left his pants folded over his arm as though he was a butler from those Japanese cafes. Yuuri seemed to struggle with getting his clothes back on and somehow got his tie to tighten around his head in the middle of taking it off. The knot was too tight for him to loosen and he was too drunk to utilize any nimble fingers. His dress shirt was back on but only the top button was buttoned.

Yuuri absentmindedly staggered around the banquet hall and drained another glass of champagne—Victor noted that was his around his eighth or ninth glass and hoped the man didn't die of alcohol poisoning or something along those lines—and approached Victor. He stiffened in surprise when Yuuri wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face into Victor's chest. Victor felt all of the air leave him when Yuuri began to shamelessly grind on him. Next to him, Yuri looked completely enraged and his ruffled appearance from the dance battle made him look like he was the first of Yuuri's "victims" while Victor was the new "second victim."

Yuuri smiled drunkenly. "Victor, my family owns a hot springs resort so come visit us!" He stopped in his grinding and looked up to Victor with bright, sparkling eyes and an equally bright smile. His cheeks were flushed red with alcohol but Victor had the sneaking suspicious they would be red even if the man wasn't drunk out of his mind. "If I win this dance battle, you'll be my coach, right?"

Victor looked at him in slight confusion. They just had a dance battle—who else was Yuuri going to dance against? And how did Yuuri get it in his head that winning the dance battles would somehow make Victor his coach? The train of thoughts the drunk made were too confusing for the sober to comprehend.

"Be my coach, Victor!" Yuuri cried out with a sloppy smile and jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Victor's neck. Victor looked at the man loosely hanging from him like a koala and felt his cheeks heat up the slightest bit at the sight of him. Yuuri looked at Victor expectantly, but not in the way other people did.

The audience and his fans wanted him to skate and for him to surprise them but no matter what he did, they wouldn't be surprised; not anymore, not when it could be attributed to his genius as a skating prodigy. The media wanted to know if he was going to continue skating or if he was finally retiring—what did he have in store, or what he planned now that he wasn't skating anymore. His competitors looked at him with respect and admiration for his prowess and spoke empty words of taking the gold medal from him—each time, Victor got his hopes up for the possibility that he could find the inspiration he was looking for but each time, he was let down.

Yuuri didn't look at him the way anyone else did. He saw Victor and saw him as someone he could learn from. Yuuri wanted to surpass Victor and what better way to surpass him than learn from the very one? Victor took a sharp intake of breath as he glanced at Yuuri in a new light.

He found his inspiration—his muse. Victor, despite his flirtatious, charming, and suave personality, didn't believe in love at first sight but Yuuri made him believe otherwise. The man was perfection in his eyes. Victor wasn't unobservant—he noticed the stretch marks that marked Yuuri's skin when he was pole dancing but that just made him more beautiful, like sin embodied.

Victor wanted to kiss Yuuri right then and there, but Yuuri fainted in his arms dead away and nearly crumpled to the ground. Victor immediately wrapped an arm around the back of Yuuri and lifted him off his feet. For starters, he would drop his muse off at his room.

"Does anyone know where Celestino is? Or where Katsuki Yuuri is staying at? I'm going to drop him off."


	2. A Budding Romance

This was inspired by _hotelroyalty_ 's tumblr post in-depth analysis of Victor's feelings for Yuuri during the Grand Prix Final banquet.

There were so many tumblr posts with a screenshot of Victor blushing when Yuuri told Victor to be his coach and I was really curious to what made Victor blush. I kept rewatching episode 10 over and over to pick up as many things as possible that I missed to put together the puzzle.

If you have theories of your own or know of a tumblr user who has good theories or headcannons of their own, let me know in the comments. I'll make sure to include any theories and headcannons that go with the current outline I have for this.

By the way, this _is_ a fan fiction so there will be bits and pieces and sooner or later, entire chapters where it doesn't go along with the anime. A lot of my chapters will be inspired by tumblr posts (that make good, concise, and logical points and arguments) and fan arts.

* * *

Victor froze when Yuuri's eyes lit up at the sight of him. The man was steadily making his way towards Victor. He was completely floored when Yuuri embraced him and proceeded to dry hump him. His brain didn't completely process what was going on, even as Yuuri started to gibber away in Japanese. For a moment, Victor wondered why Yuuri was _clinging_ to him and found himself curious of what he was saying. Perhaps he should enlist in some Japanese lessons.

"Be my coach, Victor!"

Victor's cheeks heated up at Yuuri's proposal. Figure skaters _did_ typically go into coaching or choreographing after they retired from competitive skating. It was the most logical path for him to take, what with people speculating that this season would be the season that he would finally retire. But while people speculated whether or not Victor would retire, he knew better than anyone that they didn't want him to. While Victor was considered old in the world of figure skating, he was still the biggest news as the five-times winner of the Grand Prix Final; that kind of fame was something people weren't yet willing to part yet.

Unlike anyone else, Yuuri was presenting him an alternative and Victor wondered if the man was aware of the hope he was feeding Victor. Even his own coach, Yakov, still wanted him to continue skating. Victor once thought that his fellow skaters would at least emphasize with him and understand that he was getting stretched thin by skating but they felt strongest about him leaving the rink. Christophe and Jean-Jacques wanted him to continue skating until they could take next season's gold medal from him and Yuri was of the same mindscape and wished to surpass him even.

Yuuri was opening a new door for Victor and giving him a new direction of life to follow if he pleased. He was suggesting that if Victor wanted to coach, he _could_ do it since some figure skaters just weren't cut out for coaching or choreographing regardless of their history as a top skater. Everyone still wanted a piece of Victor, for him to continue with competitive skating and Yuuri was telling him that he doesn't _have_ to continue competitive skating if he _doesn't want to._

Victor knew that what Yuuri was proposing to him, on some level, meant so much to his fellow skater. While he didn't know his name at first, he knew that Yuuri was considering retirement after he spectacularly self-destructed at his first Grand Prix Final. Victor felt sympathy for Yuuri; while he never experienced defeat to the same extent as Yuuri had, he had seen several of his competitors fall out of the grid after suffering a miserable loss to him. Yet Yuuri looked at him with such expectant eyes, truly believing from the bottom of his heart that Victor could help him win next season. Victor could see the naked admiration and raw confidence in Yuuri's eyes and the sincerity in Yuuri's proposal was a breath of fresh air. Even though Victor had never tried his hand at coaching the slightest bit—people may argue otherwise but offering his fellow skaters under Coach Yakov and actually coaching a skater were two completely different things—Yuuri thought that Victor could still be a great coach.

He knew better than anyone that he was growing stagnant, regardless of what anyone else had to say on the matter. People could deny it all they want and swear blind, but competitive skating was a fleeting sport that didn't stop for anyone. Victor wasn't going to get any younger and while he kept his body in optimal condition, not even he was folly to aging. In a couple of years, he would hit his thirties, and eventually, his body wouldn't be able to hold out any longer with competitive skating. Furthermore, he was done as a figure skater even if he pushed back his retirement a bit longer; he lost his inspiration to choreograph his programs and he couldn't even find any motivation to truly skate with his all. The rush of excitement and heart-pounding adrenaline that once filled his veins like a drug during his teenage years was washed away by his achievements over the years, as the consecutive five-times winner of the Grand Prix Final.

Skating was all Victor ever knew and because of that, he neglected his personal life and love life, only focusing on his life as a professional skater. Because he thrived in skating, it was all he ever paid any attention to; skating gave him his career, fame, awards, friends. But now that Victor had achieved all that one could, he reached the dilemma everyone went through at one point; he didn't know what he would do with his life once he left the rink for good. He achieved so much through skating but one part of him was relieved that he would be retiring sooner or later, what with saying of how lonely it was to be at the top.

To be honest, Victor was tired of being at the top and yearned for a rival to challenge him before he retired more than anything. While he was sick and tired of skating because it was what people wanted from him and more importantly, _expected_ from him, he wanted to experience the same heart-pounding adrenaline rushing through his veins and to actually feel _pressured_ by his competitors. Victor wanted more from life but because he neglected his Love and Life, he didn't know how to get it.

Victor always studied all of his competitor's routines beforehand so as to adjust his own routine accordingly. That didn't mean he could match a name with a face but he recognized the Japanese man, whom he felt staring a hole in the back of his head for the past minute, as the skater who was particularly skilled in step sequences and spins. Victor figured that the man was too shy to initiate a conversation so he offered Katsuki Yuuri a commemorative photo with him. His interest was immediately piqued when instead of readily but shyly accepting his offer, the Japanese man instead looked hurt and simply turned his back on Victor. Admittedly, he was confused to why the man didn't deign to reply; he had been staring at Victor for longer than what would strictly be considered socially acceptable and based on what little he gathered from the man, the Japanese weren't the type to engage in such behavior.

He was drawn in by Yuuri's dismissiveness of himself. It was quite odd of him but after years of being in the limelight, it was a breath of fresh air that Victor never knew that he needed. Everyone wanted a piece of him—to continue to wow the audience; to throw together another awe-inspiring routine; to not retire from competitive skating just yet.

At the beginning of the banquet, Victor eyed every nook and cranny of the banquet room for the Japanese man. He wanted to get to know the man more and the desire was further encouraged by Victor's decision to no longer neglect his Love and Life. It was the prime reason why he was one of the first to take out of his phone and snap photos of Yuuri's drunk dancing, getting closer and closer to the "Dance Battle of the Two Yuuri's", as Chris had aptly named it until he was eventually dragged into it as well. He was drawn in by the music that Yuuri's body made; the Japanese man was known for his proficiency in his step sequences and for good reason when he could still out-dance Yuri even he was drop-dead drunk with sixteen glasses of champagne.

Victor felt moved by the need, confidence, and sheer blind faith Yuuri had in him. No one was ever surprised by his skating anymore and Victor felt like people were taking his skating for granted, only ever expecting him to continue with competitive skating and to continue to dazzle them. Yuuri had other ideas and didn't mind taking him off the ice; he wasn't the slightest bit put off by the possibility that Victor might retire next season and wholeheartedly embraced it.

He knew how much the offer meant to his fellow skater. He saw how crestfallen and despaired Yuuri appeared when he placed last during the Grand Prix Final. Gossip was never something that he indulged in, but people contemplated that the Japanese man was considering retirement with his grand failure. Yuri had even confided in him that he witnessed his Japanese counterpart having a breakdown in the bathroom stall.

 _What a bold, cute, little piggy,_ he thought. Victor was completely enraptured by the wide, innocent eyes Yuuri looked at him with. His cheeks were flushed red and he looked earnest and hopeful that Victor would at least consider his proposal of being Yuuri's coach. Victor gave Yuuri a genuine smile, sincere instead of charming and suave.

Yuuri looked positively ecstatic at Victor's smile. His cheeks, now flushed entirely red, stretched across his face widely. His eyes crinkled and narrowed into his smile until they looked as though Yuuri had closed his eyes. It was an adorable and entirely endearing smile. Yuuri unwrapped his arms from around Victor's neck to drop down back to his feet and instead, tightly wrapped his thin arms around Victor's waist. He snuggled his face into Victor's chest and let out a very happy, content sigh.

Victor leaned into the embrace and followed Yuuri's example, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's lower back. He buried his nose into the bird's nest of Yuuri's hair and closed his eyes, breathing in Yuuri's scent—ignoring the strong smell of champagne, Yuuri smelled of books, cinnamon, and oddly of a meat dish. Although he was just as content as Yuuri to remain in their embrace, he could hear the guests murmuring to each other. Yuuri swayed on his feet unsteadily and once Victor finished writing his number on Yuuri's arm, he had to wrap an arm around Yuuri's lower back to keep him steady and prevent him from falling to the floor. Yuuri slumped forward into Victor's chest and became limp in his arms.

Victor sighed in slight exasperation. He swiftly tucked his arm around the back of Yuuri's knees and swiftly lifted him in his arms. He shifted his arms around Yuuri a couple times, jostling Yuuri's head in the process so that he could get a better grip on Yuuri and carry him more comfortably in his arms. Victor smiled softly at the innocent visage of his sleeping beauty. Yuuri slept peacefully in his arms. His cheek was squished into Victor's chest and a small trail of drool was escaping the corner of his lips. One of Yuuri's hand was latched onto Victor's sit while the other was curled over his stomach. Occasionally, his sleeping beauty would shift around slightly and murmur Japanese as he slept, smiling bashfully now and then. He looked so young and pure in his arms and Victor still found it hard to believe it was this same man who could pole dance so enticingly and do so with a seductive expression that should be sin personified. Beside him, Chris whistled and smirked at the completely smitten expression Victor knew that he was sporting. "Looks like the Casanova has finally fallen."

Victor laughed loudly but made no effort to deny it. He knew he had fallen in love with Yuuri and he had fallen for the man _hard_. The man didn't even show up on Victor's radar during the Grand Prix Finals but his attention was ensnared instantly by his drunken performance. He was so enduring, all smiles and cheer, and lit up the room with laughter and merry cheers. It was a sharp contrast to the gloomy and nervous man who appeared with Coach Celestino during the kiss and cry.

Love at first sight was something he never believed in but, it could be applied loosely to Victor's situation. He certainly didn't fall in love with Yuuri when he first saw him. Yuuri was one great surprise after another—who would've thought that the seemingly dark and gloomy Japanese man knew how to pole dance, and so _good_ at it too? —and Victor loved surprises like no other. He sought to surprise the judges and the audience with his ice skating during the competitions each time but after winning the Grand Prix Final for the fifth consecutive time, no one was surprised at anything he did anyone.

 _If anyone can do that, Victor Nikiforov would be the one_. Because he surpassed everyone's expectations during the beginning, everyone knew that he was capable of going above and beyond, and succeeding. And so, competitive skating lost its glory when the excitement he once held for it disappeared. He still loved to skate and hadn't yet lost his passion for it, but it just wasn't the same anymore now that he couldn't surprise the audience—and wasn't that the biggest tragedy when part of his inspiration came from being able to surprise the audience.

Yet Katsuki Yuuri surprised Victor once and continued to do so. Victor never imagined that the man could be so good at dancing and managed to press all of the right buttons to get Yuri to join Yuuri in a dance battle. That Yuuri won against Yuri was a bigger surprise and it was a breath of fresh air to see Yuri lose to someone he deemed a failure—a nobody, because that was _everyone's_ first impression of anomaly that was Katsuki Yuuri—when Yuri had spoken so boldly before, only to have his words thrown right back at him. Victor had his breath stolen from him when Yuuri began to strip in front of everyone—and their cameras, Mila's phone flashed continuously as she laughed and cheered the man on—and exposed a very tantalizing body and proceeded to _pole-dance_ with Chris.

Victor fell in love with how Yuuri surprised him exactly how Victor once surprised the audience when he was younger, less experienced, still not as well known in the figure skating world. He loved the way Yuuri's cheeks flushed pink whenever he smiled, even if it was only because he was drunk. He loved how Yuuri's eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than a night sky in the countryside of Russia. He loved the way Yuuri's laughter sounded like the odd amalgamation of a belching goat, hissing cat, and the cry of an elephant because it was enduring and sounded adorable when it came from Yuuri. He loved the way Yuuri smiled so wide that it made his eyes look like they were closed to hide his embarrassment or shyness.

He loved how Yuuri noticed that some of Chris's smiles weren't as sincere as people liked to believe them to be, and loved even more how Yuuri could differentiate between when Chris smiled because he was expected to and when Chris smiled because he couldn't help but do so. He adored how insightful and perceptive Yuuri appeared. He worshiped how innocent Yuuri looked in his arms, with a thin trail of drool escaping the corner of his lips and the sharp contrast of how seductive Yuuri appeared when he was pole dancing with Chris. He fell in love with how entrancing Yuuri appeared when he danced along with the music.

Victor was well aware of how attractive he was, and he used his attractiveness to his advantage. One-night stands were something he was well acquainted with but he never actually experienced anything he could consider to be love. All he had ever been in was a series of primarily physical and relatively, emotionally meaningless relationships that hardly ever lasted past the two-month mark. His past partners never mattered to him because they were replaceable and more importantly, there were plenty of people who were more than willing to be his next partner and even more who didn't mind that they were only going to be a one-night stand or a short-term "item" if it meant they could bed _the_ Victor Nikiforov.

Yuuri made him feel as though he was tripping over his own two feet and falling headfirst into a pit full of "What the hell am I even doing?" All of the years of experience that Victor had inadvertently racked up through his years of meaningless relationships went out the window and straight into the dumpster when it came to Katsuki Yuuri. It had only been a few days since he actually learned that the man even existed and a single day in between to actually interact with him. It was worse than the three days that spanned to create _The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet_.

Yuri shuffled towards Victor with a scowl on his face and a man following behind him, folded clothes hanging over one arm. Victor presumed that the man was Yuuri's coach and smiled secretively to himself. Yuri wasn't fooling anyone with his delinquent act and Victor likened the teen to a tortoise; a tough shell hiding a soft inside. And in Victor's opinion, anyone who owned a cat and absolutely worshiped their very existence could never amount to any delinquency of the sort. Yuri was proving that he was a softie as well since he found Yuri's coach despite his bold statement that he hoped Yuuri retired so that there wouldn't be two Yuri's for his senior debut.

"Ciao! Ciao! I'm Coach Celestino!" the man introduced with cheery enthusiasm. "I'll take Yuuri to his room. Looks like he had a good time. Sorry for the trouble"

Victor laughed and waved his hand at Coach Celestino dismissively. "It's fine. I'll do it for you. I want to go to my room too. You can just enjoy the banquet."

Coach Celestino looked surprised and eyed Victor with scrutiny. Victor wanted to pat Yuuri on the shoulder for finding such a genuinely caring and protective coach. He also chalked it up to the man's Italian heritage. Whatever the man found, he obviously took comfort in it because the tension in his posture visibly left him and he relaxed. He handed Yuuri's discarded clothes to Victor and waved a two-fingered salute before walking off. "I'll leave it to you then!"

Victor smiled appreciatively and tossed Yuuri's suit jacket, dress pants, and shoes over his cargo's sleeping form. He slipped out of the banquet hall unnoticed as everyone was too distracted by sharing the pictures and videos they took during Yuuri's dance battle and his and Chris's pole dancing with the other guests. After a split-second decision, Victor brought his own phone out and snapped several pictures of Yuuri's sleeping face. It would be a crime to let such a golden opportunity slip from him when it was practically handed to him on a silver platter. Let it be known that Victor was the greatest opportunist of them all.

It took ten minutes for Victor to call for a taxi this late at night since Yakov had arranged for a van to drive everyone—himself, Yuri, Mila, and Georgi—to the hotel when everyone was ready; even Yakov deserved a break and from Yuri's latest antics, that break was the banquet and the many bottles of champagne. Checking in with the hotel proved to be a rather cumbersome task with Yuuri with him and unconscious due to hotel policy stating that all guests needed to show their key card or have a friend show it for them. Victor didn't have Yuuri's keycard so he had to resort to charming the lady at the reception desk and the convoluted celebrity logic that Victor Nikiforov would never steal his fellow competitor's key card and managed to get a copy of Yuuri's room.

It was almost too troublesome for Victor to bother with tucking Yuuri into bed. Said man, despite his unconscious state, swung his arms and legs wildly whenever Victor tried to untangle the monkey from his person. Yuuri was very stubborn and insistent even in his sleep and made it clear that he wanted to remain clinging to Victor's now crinkled suit. Victor had half of a mind to simply call it a night and join his fellow competitor in the enticing bed that called to him.

Unlike Yuuri though, Victor was still sober and Yakov would have his head if he didn't return to the banquet hall once he finished his business with Yuuri. It was already a miracle and a half that his brooding coach didn't stick a tag-along with Victor since the man was hyperaware of the press. Victor found the irony hilarious that he was the least concerned about his presence in the media and that despite his coach's scathing remarks that he only bothered to do any damage control because it would reflect badly on him as Victor's coach, everyone and their grandpa—and Yuri's grandpa really could attest to it as he came to the same conclusion just from what Yuri had to say—knew that the elderly man was just one big softy.

Victor didn't bother dressing Yuuri in his pajamas and figured it wouldn't hurt to nicely lay the man's discarded clothes over one of the lounge chairs. For a split second, he considered jotting his personal number down so that Yuuri could contact him once he woke up but decided against it. Yakov would personally grill him a new one—and while Victor couldn't care less with what his coach would do to him, it was too much of an annoyance and one that he wanted to avoid—and made it seem like Victor was coming on to Yuuri too strongly. He would simply wait for Yuuri himself to contact him. It wouldn't be too hard for the Japanese skater to do so either. Chris would be more than willing to part with Victor's number should Yuuri choose to approach him after they bonded over their impromptu pole dancing battle. Victor was positive that Yuuri noticed that Mila was very enthusiastic with her phone during the dance battle so she was another option, if not Yuri, who would do so grudgingly.

His phone buzzed and Victor rolled his eyes. It was obvious that Yakov was getting too impatient and didn't trust Victor to keep himself out of any sort of trouble. With a fond smile, Victor flicked Yuuri's nose and chuckled softly when Yuuri frowned and rubbed his nose before pressing his cheek into his pillow. Victor silently walked to the door and wiggled his fingers in a good-bye gesture despite that the recipient wouldn't see it and carefully closed the door behind him. He took his phone out from his back pocket and tapped on Yuri's speed dial.

"What the hell do you want, asshole?" Yuri asked scathingly.

Victor rolled his eyes at the tone and thought to himself, _Yuri really needs to work on his acting skills._ He simply laughed it off, knowing that his easy dismissal aggravated Yuri like no other. "I'm feeling pretty tired so let Yakov know I'm just going to head straight to the hotel. Japanese Yuuri is already in his hotel room."

Yuri scoffed harshly and Victor was positive that his junior was rolling his eyes at his words. "You better not go off to some bar and drink until dawn like you did last time."

"I won't! I won't!" he reassured even though he knew it fell on deaf ears. He shrugged to himself and raised his arm when he saw a flash of bright yellow approach his general direction. "I'm about to ride the taxi! I'm hanging up." He didn't bother waiting for Yuri to respond and ended the call just as he said. It was immature of him but he took satisfaction in the fact that he got the last word even though it wasn't an argument. Just knowing that Yuri would be pissed that Victor hung up on him, and that said man got the last word was sure to infuriate the teenager.

With a slight spring in his step, Victor boarded the taxi as he rolled into the curb and smiled charmingly at the driver before he rattled off the address of his hotel. It took fifteen minutes for him to reach his hotel. The media could draw the most accurate and wildest conclusions from the slightest bit of information and Yakov pounded it in his head to avoid doing anything that could be the slightest bit incriminatory. While Victor normally didn't bother with Yakov's instructions, he figured his coach deserved a break for once and paid the driver a tad bit more than what was strictly required and could be considered a bribe. "I wasn't here."

Victor checked in at the reception desk and quietly reached his hotel room. With a sigh, he stripped out of his suit and tossed it haphazardly over a random lounge chair since it was already wrinkled by Yuuri. He was left in his regular, black briefs and jumped into his bed with a tired sigh of relief. He wished Makkachin was in bed with him but comforted himself with the thought of seeing his beloved dog the next day.

* * *

I'm going to be going on a retreat for four days and three nights. Normally, I would spend the next few days after posting a new chapter working on a general outline for the next chapter and a rough draft where I just vomit all of what I want to incorporate for that chapter but I won't be able to bring my laptop with me. I'm on winter break right now and I really want to post another chapter before December ends even though that's really ambitious for me since I'm a lazy poster. Since it's Christmas and all, I would really appreciate it if I get any fan theories, headcanons, fan art (links or anything like that), or what you think might happen in the next chapter or would like to happen in your reviews.

 **In an alternate universe, who would you have wanted Yuuri to end up with if Victor didn't come to Hasetsu to be his coach?**

 _By ending up, I mean separate answers for who you would have liked Yuuri to end up with as a lover and as a coach. (Please differentiate on the two!)_


	3. Yamato Nadeshiko

This was an ask from _Sacheland_ for _Kazliin_ and I just couldn't help but dedicate a chapter to it.

 **Sacheland:**

"HC Yuuri makes cute japanese bento for Viktor everytime he's in Russia and Viktor always posts them on instagram and everyone would be like, 'omg Yuuri Katsuki is such a perfect husband' (and the russian team would try to steal the bento because Yuuri's bento is a gift for humankind, so lunch time would be a fight to the death)

Lunchtime at the Russian rink when Yuuri brings home cooked food is like the hunger games arena and Yakov has long given up trying to stop it!  
— **Kazliin**

* * *

Since Yuuri was raised in a hot springs resort, his home life was a bit different from the rest of his peers. His father and sister were absolute messes in the kitchen and the father-daughter duo would sooner burn the entire resort down than cook up even a half-decent meal. The resort could get busy from time to time so his mother taught him how to cook so that he could help her out in the kitchen. By passing down her cooking skills in hopes that he and his sister wouldn't be such a mess when it came down to inheriting the resort and to lessen the frenzy she worked herself into during the season, his mother was killing two birds with one stone. There were times when his mother had to stay in bed because she was down with the cold so, on those days, Yuuri was responsible for cooking. It was nerve-wracking at first because he was afraid that he would end up serving the customers undercooked or overcooked meals, or worse, food poisoning. His anxiety was always there, unhelpfully whispering scenarios into his ears until several beaming customers put an end to that. His nerves left him soon enough since cooking was something he was comfortable with and it was something he had been doing since he was five.

Home Economics was an easy A for Yuuri since he was constantly helping out in the kitchen when the resort was particularly busy, eager to be of use. He always had a hard time making friends but it got easier after he entered junior high. Yuuko and Takeshi already knew how good he was at cooking and visited his classroom during lunch break to eat their fill. Since they were second years, his classmates balked at how casual he was with them and how blessed their expressions became when they shoveled down his leftovers from Home Economics. The third years began to visit Yuuri's classroom soon enough when they caught whist of how good his cooking was. He didn't mind sharing his lunch and took to bringing extra bento boxes for any visiting upperclassmen. Somehow or another, he had ended up with his own little business after his soon-to-be regulars learned how early Yuuri had to wake up each morning to make five large bento boxes. Most of his regulars decided that they would trade his food for something they thought was equivalent, like a ticket to the movies or a coupon to the karaoke, or a favor that he could cash in. The third years were oddly protective of him, citing that he was "too pure and vulnerable." They made certain that no one tried to take advantage of the so-called system they had arranged, and Yuuri even earned himself a few brownie points with his English teacher after offering the man his bento when he noticed the man without lunch. That part of his motivation into offering Himeno-sensei was mainly because English was one of the most commonly spoken language and one that _the_ Victor Nikiforov would undoubtedly know made the anxiety-inducing circumstances (Himeno-sensei, despite his flowery name, was brutish and terrified most of the first-year population)

Yuuri's reputation as a " _Yamato Nadeshiko_ " followed him once he entered high school. Yuuri attended an all-boys high school because it was a closer walk from home than it was to the co-ed high school that both Yuuko and Takeshi attended. Yuuko had jokingly told Yuuri that since the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, Yuuri had already seduced half of the school. He had vehemently denied her words but couldn't help but acknowledge that there was a bit of truth in what she said. Now that everyone was old enough to have their own jobs, people started buying his food even though he insisted that he didn't mind giving them away for free. After a third year had pointed out that buying ingredients to cook for the people who wanted a bento box—which was practically the entire student body—Yuuri had to accept things as it was.

When Yuuri moved to Detroit so that he could further his figure skating career, his cooking skills earned him the undying love of his floormates from the university dorms and his rink-mates alike. A sophomore had to explain to him what the typical college life was in America—a diet of mainly instant noodles and plenty of alcohol, hoarding dishes and old cup noodles until the dreaded "walk of shame", the sniff test, staying up at ungodly hours to finish an assignment or a project. Yuuri was a neat person because of the responsibilities his parents had entrusted him with—washing the dishes, cooking meals, doing the laundry—so he couldn't wrap his head around how sloppy his floormates could be after halfway into his fall semester. While Yuuri was given a full-ride to the university, he still had to pay for his residency in the dorms out of his own pocket so on Yuuko's suggestion, he started up his bento business again. He felt bad for Phichit, who was his roommate, who had to deal with the chaos of his regulars so he made him lunch and dinner when he could. At the end of the semester, his floormates fought viciously to become Yuuri's roommate for the spring semester when they learned that he prepared all of the meals. Phichit was the smallest out of everyone, barely reaching one-hundred and sixty-five centimeters but he _destroyed_ everyone else with a smile on his face.

All Phichit had to say was, "You're too pure and precious for this world to be tainted by them." The words rang strangely familiar to Yuuri, who was reminded of his upperclassmen in junior high. Though he really appreciated the sentiment, he had to wonder if Phichit had ever meant his upperclassmen from junior high, even if it was in passing.

In hindsight, Yuuri should've expected that Victor would've behaved exactly as everyone else had when they first tried his food. He hadn't had any time to cook when Victor had suddenly arrived in Yuutopia since he was immediately roped into training. Telling Victor that he knew how to cook never really came up since it had nothing to do with the general gist of their conversations and he never thought it was something that Victor just _had_ to know about. Yuuko had been all for Yuuri cooking a meal for Victor—he refused to believe that he could give his mother a run for her money when it came to cooking—but he was oddly against it. Yuuri figured it was because his cooking style was set more towards home-cooking and comfort foods while Victor seemed like the type of person who ate at a Michelin-star restaurant every day. But to be honest, Yuuri and Yuuko both knew that it was his anxiety acting up again to overwhelm him with a set of "What if's," and while Yuuko could be pushy and a dominating presence, she knew whenever a line was drawn and took care to never cross it.

Victor had suggested that Yuuri move to St. Petersburg so they could both train under Yakov since Victor was returning to the ice for one more season. The man was strangely unopposed to it even though the image Yuuri had created of the man was someone who was intolerant of Victor's nonchalant and I-do-what-I-want behavior. He later learned that Lilia Baranovskaya convinced Yakov to take him on because she wanted to see his ballet. She was a stern woman who didn't appreciate the half-hearted effort; Yuuri was just glad that she hadn't seen the pictures from last year's gala party, otherwise, he was certain she would've snapped him over her knee. Yuuri wasn't as acquainted with the rest of the Russian team as he would've liked but neither Georgi or Mila opposed when Yakov announced that Yuuri would be joining them. Yuuri figured it was because Yakov had his own skating club like Celestino did in Detroit. Instead, they were strangely excited and eager for him to join them. Georgi pestered him with questions on his love life with Victor and advice on how to get Anya back while Mila teased him relentlessly but all in good nature. To no one's surprise, Yuri made the biggest fuss because Yuuri was "infringing on his territory" but his tantrum was quick to pass. For all that Yuri preached of how he hated Yuuri, Yuuri wasn't as loathed as he thought he was. Yuuri figured it was akin to a boy pulling his crush's pigtails; except in their case, Yuri was the type to treat the people he tolerated with less disdain and aggression, as in the case with Jean-Jacques.

Yuuri moved in with Victor when he learned that most of the nearby apartments to the rink were out of his price range. Victor hadn't minded since he would be "returning the favor" and was eager to get Yuuri settled in. Despite being a bachelor for most of his life, Victor's flat was surprisingly roomy, with a large kitchenette, a master bedroom with a closet and bathroom, a guest room, a separate bathroom, and a laundry room. Yuuri had learned soon enough that for how neat and tidy he kept his flat, he couldn't cook even if his life depended on it. Victor was completely useless when it came to cooking and couldn't even make a proper grocery list—writing microwave meals and vodka did _not_ count—so Yuuri had to take up cooking the meals in the house and doing the grocery shopping.

Victor and Yuuri had slightly different training schedules because Yuuri was practicing ballet more intensely under Lilia and taking up more pole dancing classes with Yakov's grudging insistence—under the insistence that the classes would improve Yuuri's core and help with his choreography. They usually only had time to eat breakfast together and train at the rink on Tuesdays and Thursdays. During the days where he wouldn't be there to practice with Victor, he would make Victor a bento box so that the man wouldn't feel as dejected as he had before.

* * *

"Victor! Stop fucking crying!" Yuri yelled with a scowl. He tore into his pirozhki and eyed Victor's lunch speculatively. "Did Katsudon make you that?"

Victor smiled happily and nodded. The bento box was plastic, lacquered black with cute, pink cherry blossom motifs. The rice was seasoned and shaped so it appeared to be Makkachin's head. Victor's side dishes were rolled omelets, sausages cut into octopi, tempura-fried shrimp, and boiled eggs. "It's so adorable! I don't want to ruin it!" he wailed.

Victor quickly whipped out his phone and snapped a picture of his lunch with Yuri in the background sporting a scowl. He posted the picture to Instagram with the caption, _Yuuri is such a good cook! It's too adorable to eat! #KatsukiYuuri #lunch #bento #Makkachin #sakura #husbandmaterial_

Yuri rolled his eyes and sagged into the chair. "So what? It can't be _that_ good."

Victor glanced at Yuri with wide eyes. "Oh. I forgot. You've never tried Yuuri's cooking before." He shoved an omelet in Yuri's mouth before he could say another word and smiled smugly when Yuri's eyes took on a suspiciously sparkly sheen as he swallowed it instead of spitting the food out. "It's good, isn't it?"

Yuri frowned but grudgingly nodded his head. "But that doesn't mean anything! I bet I could make better pirozhki than that damn pig!"

Victor laughed and waves his hand flippantly. "Yuuri is such a great cook. What do the Japanese call it again? A Yamato Nadeshiko!" Victor paused, his brow narrowed in slight consideration. He immediately narrowed his eyes and hovered over his bento box protectively, as though Yuri would snatch it in a heartbeat. "I only let you try some because it's a crime not to have tried Yuuri's cooking. Yuuri's busy enough as it is."

Yuuri snorted. "If he has time to make _you_ of all people breakfast, lunch, come back from training, and _still_ have enough energy to make your lazy ass dinner, then he must not be training as hard as you make him out to be."

The conversation had been stored in the back of Victor's mind after Yuri hadn't mentioned it again. He wanted it to stay that way. Good food was hard to come across and good food that was _healthy_ was even harder. Yuuri gave Victor a long lecture on how he had studied nutrition in Detroit so that he could make all of his meals filling but not fattening. If Georgi and Mila got wind of how good Yuuri's cooking was, then Victor would be hounded from all three sides to share his lunch with them. Yuuri's bento was a gift to mankind and Victor would sooner die than hand his lunch over, rink-mates or not.

Victor's self-appointed mission of guarding Yuuri's food against everyone save himself got much harder when Yuuri changed his training schedule so that he worked with Lilia on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. That meant Yuuri's schedule aligned with Victor's and by extension, Yuri's, Georgi's, and Mila's training schedule because Yakov much rather preferred everyone skate on the same days so more people could point out any flaws.

Yuuri had gone all out and brought a picnic's worth of food, enough to feed a starving family of seven. The rink had a break room where everyone ate lunch and sometimes dinner there. Yuuri was such a sweetheart and brought plastic containers and pots full of food—Russian food that was _all_ made from scratch. There was pelmeni, beef stroganoff, pirozhki—Yuri was going to shit bricks—and shyly deposited bento boxes of Japanese food on the table as well. He eyed Yuri, and Victor came to the thought that maybe Yuuri was afraid Yuri would open his mouth to say something about the Japanese food or something equally unsavory. Yuri came to the same conclusions and scowled darkly.

"Katsudon! Your pirozhki may not be as good as my grandpa's, but you better have not ruined perfectly good pirozhki!"

Yuuri smiled at that, recognizing that Yuri was nowhere near as scathing as he could've been. Mila smiled teasingly at Yuri and she went to the bento box first. She let out an appreciative hum as she swallowed the octo-sausage. Georgi filled his plate with pelmeni and beef stroganoff while Yakov settled for the bento box as well. Victor chalked it up to Yakov's curiosity since Mila was notorious for her picky eating, something that never failed to drive Yakov up the wall. It made hotel reservations much trickier than it could've been since Mila refused to stay anywhere that served food below her standards. Given that Mila grew up in one of the more rural communities in a backwater area, Victor could understand where she was coming from.

* * *

"Yakov! So, how do you think about Yuuri?" Victor asked with a wink. "I told you, didn't I? He's surprisingly stubborn but generally takes in advice."

Yakov let out a deep sigh and it seemed as though he was deflating. "I don't see why he sticks with you when you're so willy-nilly." He frowned for a moment before showcasing an unwrapped bento box. Yakov displayed it to Victor as a single tear left his eye. "He made me a bento box this morning! Said that it was made with ingredients that were good for the body. He even made the rice look like me. That boy. . ." Yakov trailed off and looked towards the sky. "He's too pure and innocent."

Victor laughed as he remembered the infamous Gala. He recalled how Yuuri called for a dance-off with Yuri and won with break-dancing, how Chris and Yuuri engaged in a steamy session of pole dancing, and how Yuuri had seduced Victor in a single night. Yuuri could be innocent and pure, but that was only one side of a coin that was Katsuki Yuuri.

* * *

So I'm super sorry that I left you guys hanging. But I'll see what I can do about updating more often. Obviously, it would be every week, but more so every 2-3 weeks hopefully.


	4. Philautia, Eros, Agape I

HeartbookShadownovle chapter 2 . Mar 16

This was so good of a story. So first props to you, at a fantastic job well done.  
Also the question asked at the end. In my opinion I would like to see Yuuri's lover to be Chris or JJ, as to why idk myself they just seem like interesting shipping. As for his coach, I don't really know. I would say If Chris was the lover then jj be the coach, but honestly this was all I could think of to say.  
So once again, great story. Keep up the amazing job, because this is great.

I dedicate this chapter to **HeartbookShadownovle** , who gave me an idea for this next chapter because I honestly just thinking shit up as I go.

* * *

 _Philautia_ : self of oneself

Yuuri knew that what he felt for Victor Nikiforov was merely infatuation—the kind of adoration one experienced when they were particularly enamored by their most beloved idol. While it gripped him tightly since his childhood, pushed him towards ballet and skating, Victor Nikiforov was less of a genuine crush and more of someone who represented what Yuuri aspired to become.

 _This is the person I want to grow into,_ Yuuri would whisper to himself in the privacy of his bedroom, down the hall and very much separated from his parents' and Mari-neesan's rooms. Victor Nikiforov was a very pushy man, Yuuri observed from Coach Yakov's interviews. He went at his own pace and often ignored helpful advice from Coach Yakov—something that no doubt infuriated the man to no ends. As Yuuri grew up watching Victor Nikiforov's interviews, he noted that the man could be rather condescending to others, unintentionally harsh with his words, and so very forgetful of things that gave people the idea that they weren't worth his time. That, Yuuri didn't appreciate very much, but the sheer confidence and self-assurance, the thick skin of not letting anyone deter him— _Yuuri aspired to reach that level._

Yuuko-chan and Takeshi-kun often teased Yuuri for having a crush on such an unattainable figure, but Victor Nikiforov was merely a representation of his goal in life—in self-esteem, in character, in figure skating. For him, Victor Nikiforov served as simply a name to put to his aspirations.

And when Yuuri happened to chance upon Victor Nikiforov in the airport, it didn't sting so much as it did _burn_ when his idol didn't even recognize his own competitor. Was he so below Victor Nikiforov that he didn't even register as a potential challenger to the man? It was a bitter pill to swallow, being mistaken as a fan rather than a competitor, especially after earning last place. Yuri Plisetsky kicking the bathroom stall a few hours ago while Yuuri was having a private melt-down didn't help at all, not when he was never good with confrontational people. However, it didn't hurt as much as it would've since Yuuri had long since accepted that idolized the man's confidence and finesse in skating over the man himself.

Victor Nikiforov had a personality that would undoubtedly clash horribly with his own. Yuuri was a reserved and private person but Victor openly aired any potential dirty laundry such so that it was no longer worth anything. While Victor thrived at galas and toasted with possible sponsors, Yuuri was a wallflower and easily faded into the background. They just wouldn't mesh together and ultimately, Yuuri knew that he was better off with finding someone who could match his wavelength—someone who would be able to deal with his bouts of anxiety, especially when he hadn't taken his medication.

There have been times where Yuuri would imagine what it would be like to have a lover like Victor. Was he the romantic type or someone cheesy? Was he as suave and charming as teen magazines painted him as or did he trip over his words in face of his crush? Exclusive magazines in Japan made certain to portray Yuuri as accurately as possible—in equal parts because of Minako-sensei's fervor, and because they were proud of him as the first Japanese skater to reach the Grand Prix Finals. And while such an achievement did make Yuuri puff his chest in pride from time to time, it was nothing compared to his fellow skaters.

But that didn't mean that Yuuri didn't think that he didn't deserve his place in the Grand Prix Finals. For all that he placed last, he still made it there—he more than _earned_ his spot. There were times where he felt that he didn't belong, but the fact of the matter was that thinking he didn't belong would change _nothing._ It was already history since he had done his part and it was just his anxiety talking, and from time to time, self-doubt. Because to say that he didn't deserve his spot or belong there was insulting all the other skaters who tried their hardest to reach the Grand Prix Finals, would be insinuating that the judges didn't do their job correctly, and was questioning Coach Celestino himself—who coached a student to become the first Japanese figure skater to reach the Grand Prix Finals.

After watching Victor Nikiforov perform at the Four Continents Championships, skating _Stammi Vicino_ was a bit of a spontaneous decision on Yuuri's part. Victor Nikiforov did an excellent free skate, but Yuuri had a sinking suspicion that he didn't do the song justice on expressing himself. It made him feel presumptuous, thinking that Victor Nikiforov was simply going through the motions of the free skate, plastering appropriate facial expressions. Yuuri felt that while Victor Nikiforov understood the message of the song, the emotions that were meant to be expressed, that the man was missing _something._ It was a romantic song, one that spoke of unconditional and self-sacrificial love.

 _Stammi Vicino_ spoke of soulmates, of burning passion born from the desire to monopolize and the frantic fear of loss. "They" were once cynical when it came to love, but it was wiped away once "they" met their other half. From cynicism to adoration, and dispassion to hope, Yuuri interpreted the song as someone who finally found hope in their other half, loved so dearly they were afraid to let go. But their love outweighed their fear and instead of monopolizing their love, chaining their other half to stay together forever, they _asked,_ and _hoped_ that they could be together.

And _that_ was something Yuuri wanted in his life—because he was always going to remain as the chubby little boy to his classmates, and no matter how much weight he lost, he was eventually gain it all back. Yuuri desperately yearned for someone who would meet him where he stood, who didn't make him feel like they were leagues apart. He didn't want to find someone who made him feel as though he would always be lacking in something, that he didn't deserve that special someone, that he was holding them back. Yuuri wanted to feel like he was good enough for his special someone, even with his anxiety and fluctuating weight between the seasons.

He just wanted someone who could love every part of him so that they could teach him to love _himself._

* * *

 _Eros_ : sexual love

Despite common belief, Christophe wasn't the type to go jumping into anyone and everyone's beds no matter how much some desperately wished. It was cheesy of him to still believe in true love and instead, he was more invested in chemistry. Physical attractiveness was a nice addition, but what did that matter when the beauty of the face didn't match the beauty of the soul?

In his younger years, he was still angel-faced, known for his romantic themes, of innocence and grace and tranquility. Then puberty hit him like a truck and he discarded his angelic persona for more "adult-friendly" themes, desperate to leave behind his junior years. He fell into beds easily, in the beginning, relishing in the sheer ease of how quickly he was able to bed someone.

It grew old far too quickly and as more and more people clamored over each other for a piece of Christophe's affections, the more drained he became. They were akin to vultures, asking for more and more of him until there was nothing but skin and bones—and even then, they would continue to ask and beg until there was nothing left of Christophe Giacometti, the beloved sexual fantasy of adult women and the embodiment of sexual pleasure.

While pleasure of the body was nice on occasion, Christophe took it too far. He basked in the warmth of others, drowned in the pleasures of the body, and as a result, began to neglect pleasure of the soul. Those he took to bed, he quickly realized were quite shallow and had little depths to their personality. Any attempt in friendly and casual conversation to get to know them were met by shameless flirting as all he received in response to questions like, "What made you like figure skating?" were variations of empty answers such as, "Wouldn't you like to know?" or "You and your erotic skating."

Everything grew tiring too quickly and Christophe found himself fading with each day. His interviews consisted of nothing but questions concerning his sexual escapades and tips for everyday men to bed a woman. That he had openly come out as pansexual to the public was of no concern and the multimedia still treated him as a straight man, only ever publishing tabloids with photos of Christophe and women. Fans who met him in regular locations were more interested in a kiss or giving him a blowjob over anything related to figure skating—and that was a sad realization for Christophe, that people valued his sexual appeal over his skating.

It was far too late for Christophe to walk away from his personal as a sex icon like he did during his junior years—he was far too well-known now and it was unlikely that people would drop it even if he did go ahead and try. So, he smiled coquettishly and endured the lust-filled eyes of men and women alike; he tried to ignore how cold he started to feel inside, as his insides slowly began to twist and churn uncomfortably, and how his chest always felt like it was ready to pop right open.

* * *

 _Agape_ : unconditional love

Jean-Jacques knew what people thought of him more than they believed—arrogant, cocky, drama queen, over-the-top, stupid. He tried to tell himself that he didn't mind, that the words which came from the mouths of people who didn't know him meant nothing to him. It was still a work in progress as he struggled to maintain his composure. He hated that his fans were belittled because of him when his youngest fans were barely older than ten and sent him to fan letters of how their classmates bullied them for being his fans.

Jean-Jacques knew that there were many who badmouthed him, called him arrogant and cocky, over his head and far too overdramatic. He didn't mind that since technically he was a celebrity, something he was still trying to wrap his head around, especially since he had a legion of fans. Celebrities always ended up with the short stick of the bunch—people equally adored them and hated them for the same reason and even nonexistent reason. J.J. had people taunt him on the streets, jeer at him, and there were a few who even spat in his face.

Even as people continued to spin lies about him, he paid little attention to it. In interviews, he laughed and waved it off easily. But he was still filled with frustration and anger whenever people thought to bring up his fans, or worse, his parents. His youngest fans were between eight to ten, and sometimes, he received fan letters from them and that they were teased and sometimes bullied for being his fan made him want to scream. People were so very crazy, and his own parents received _death threats_ for raising him to be so "annoying and idiotic" as the letter read.

The first time that J.J. had received a death threat in the mail, he was in Venezuela and temporarily set up a P.O. box as he arranged to stay there for six months. He arrived at the nearest police station in a small panic, and instead of reassurances and that they would do their best to find the perpetrator or anything like that, he had been laughed and shooed off. Their reasoning was that celebrities received death threats all the time, so it was nothing for him to worry about. It was a cold realization that he had come to, in that celebrities were expected to become desensitized to things that would bring anyone in the general populace into a panic. The worst J.J. had done was act in such a way that outsiders would judge and believe that he was the epitome of an asshole—his ego was not so inflated that he was blind to how others viewed him—but that didn't warrant a death threat.

J.J. had arranged for interviews to address the death threats and how it shouldn't be something so easily waved off by others. Most death threats were written in jest or something that was often never carried out, but there _have_ been celebrities who were murdered or caused serious harm. It reminded J.J. of Seung-gil Lee—but since he was Korean, it should be Lee Seung-gil—who had to be hospitalized after an anti-fan tossed a bouquet of flowers and _happened_ to contain a few bees. Seung-gil was deathly allergic to not only bee stings but to pollen and was hospitalized for a month. The only coverage was to reassure fans that things like this were not uncommon for celebrities, especially Korean celebrities because anti-fans went to extreme measures. It was baffling and when J.J. tried to address the issue, all he received were dismissals, that an eighteen-year-old wouldn't receive death threats and not someone of his age shouldn't be worrying about trivial things like that.

There were times when J.J. felt like he was going to crack under pressure, but as cheesy as it sounded, his fan letters were always something that brought his spirits up. Reading how his sheer self-confidence and tenacity in skating encouraged his fans to emulate in a comparable manner helped him overcome his own doubts. Because for all that he acted like he was entirely confident in himself, he was also only eighteen and just as human as his fans. While they did tend to place in on a pedestal, they understood that he had his ups and downs as well—he just didn't show them easily or very often.

J.J. knew he had people who looked up to him, idolized him even. For all that he felt that he shouldn't be idolized because he was just as human as his fans, susceptible to error and mistakes, he tried his best to live up to their expectations. It wasn't that he was trying to live his life for them or anything along those lines. It was more of showing his acknowledgment for his fans since it was the least that he could do for them. He knew he had good people in his fanbase since he had personally asked his fans to treat other skater fans with respect. His message was promptly made into a banner on the "official" J.J. fanbase website.

While it was draining to be only eighteen and have a fanbase of over ten thousand people, it was well worth it. He wanted to make his parents proud and it would make his day if he could inspire others to take on figure skating in the same way that he had been enthralled with the sport. And if there were days where he was just a bit less enthusiastic than usual, talked with less energy, and avoided the press rather than welcome them with open arms, well. His fans certainly understood where he was coming from.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Obviously, this is Part 1. I'm too lazy to do it all in one go.**

 **So I kept referring to Victor by his full name. Yes, there is a reason for that—Yuuri essentially looks up to Victor for his confidence and talent in skating. He aspires to be like Victor, but exactly replace him. Plus I noticed that whenever we refer to celebrities, we use their full name.**

"Taylor Swift . . ." "Justin Bieber . . ." "Chris Hemsworth . . ."

 **Also, it's a real thing in South Korea but anti-fans are so crazy there. If you look it up, there was a member of a K-Pop boyband who had to go to the hospital after an anti-fan (who pretended to be a genuine fan) gave him orange juice that contained glue. I'm pretty sure he almost died from it.**

 **College Days with Yuuri and Phichit**

 **Or**

 **Yuri's Closet-Adulation of Yuuri**

 **Or**

 **Yakov, the Grumpy Russian Mom of Three Angsty Skaters (Victor, Mila, Georgi)**


End file.
